Racing Pulses
by DealingDearie
Summary: Spock and Uhura are usually the ones sent as ambassadors when they arrive to other planets, but Spock is unable to come with her on the latest mission and feels uneasy about the entire situation.


On an ordinary day, Spock would be making negotiations, Nyota at his side, once they arrived at a new planet, but he was confined to a seat with a woefully broken leg, and his body ached from the stress of it, and today was far from ordinary. Kirk was at the edge, close to pulling his hair out as Scotty argued with him about yet another problem with the ship, and they all felt the tension, even Uhura, who was on the planet's surface trying to keep the peace-_by herself_.

She was a guest on a potentially dangerous planet with several potentially dangerous people in a very potentially dangerous situation, and all she'd brought with her was that single dagger strapped to her side, hidden by the long coat she donned.

Sitting in the Captain's chair was, for once, an inconvenience, mainly because Spock couldn't reach the communications board fast enough whenever he heard her come online, her familiar voice laced with static and background noise. Kirk's chair was the closest thing he had, since everyone else was too busy to offer him a seat, and so Spock sat forlornly, a certain sense of dread snaking up his spine.

She hadn't even gotten to the most dangerous part of the mission, yet he was on the edge of his seat, his cast stiff on his leg and immensely uncomfortable, but he ignored the feeling and leaned even further forward, eager to hear her voice.

There was another factor, too, that worsened the situation. Nyota was pregnant.

No one knew but the two of them, and she was hardly along at all, but pregnant nonetheless, and his knuckles whitened even more as he clung to the arm of the chair, grinding his teeth together with apprehension.

"Fine so far," rose her voice from the static, and he straightened, gazing at the monitor in the hopes of getting a visual. Kirk came over to stand behind him, and he felt his friend's presence like a balm to his suffering, easing just a bit of the fear within him, and he relaxed the slightest, his shoulders lowering. He could hear the crunch of her boots against the rocky ground, the soft sounds of her breathing as she made her way to the embassy. Silence fell upon the deck, and he blinked, relieved that she was safe.

A great screeching sounded, and the communication exploded with noise, the heart stopping sound of her shout of pain as others cried out in warning, the overwhelming white noise, the ringing. It all went dark, and he held his breath, eyes wide, and he felt Kirk's iron hold on his shoulder, nails biting into his skin. He leaned forward and the chair creaked beneath him, the only sound in the room. He took a shaky breath.

"Nyota?"

No answer. His knuckles got whiter, and his heart pounded rapidly, even to the point of causing pain, and his ears rang, the echo of it so very loud in his head.

"_Nyota?" _

The silence made him sick, and he swallowed, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes. _No._ It couldn't be. She couldn't be gone, not like that. She was _everything_, and for the world to disappear out from under him….He denied it, adamantly turned away from the idea, and focused on the comm, willing it to come alive, making himself ignore the silence and the looks and the tears all around him.

But he couldn't do it for long, and he slumped in his chair, looking down at his hands, blinking. He brought a hand up to his cheek and it came away wet, cool tears strolling down his face. It was a foreign feeling, and he swallowed, shaking his head as he stared at the water, the rush of blood in his ears the only sound he could hear.

The comm beeped, and his head snapped up, alert and hoping, hoping and wishing and longing. A cacophony of noise assaulted the deck before it quickly died down.

"Spock," Uhura murmured breathlessly, and a feeling of such relief came over him, overwhelming and powerful, and he smiled, almost laughing with the feeling washing over him.

"Someone attacked the embassy; we have to get out of here." He leaned forward in his seat, concerned at her reserved tone.

"Are you hurt?" He could hear the muffled sound of her adjusting her hold on the device, and the yelling in the background sounded distant, thankfully far from her.

"A little, but it's nothing serious." She clicked off, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Kirk did the same and clapped him on the shoulder, releasing his grip, and walked off to help Bones prepare the medbay for her.

Sitting there, Spock had never felt so much in such a short amount of time, and he rested back in the chair, closing his eyes as he listened to her words echo in his head, his one and only salvation.

**Based off a prompt given over on Tumblr.**

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